My babies

Just sitting here in the quiet since baby girl has fallen asleep since she seems to be a bit under the weather. Otherwise she would still be up, I know she should be in bed early but since she doesn't go to school I've kept it mellow. Besides the first 18 months of her life she was on a schedule, feeding at 430am cause we had to commute hour to work, so she deserves some late mornings before school starts. I love it when she sleeps, her little face, the way she breathes and the peacefulness of it all.

I actually miss the days when I used to breastfeed her and she would look up into my face with adoration and love. And no matter how painful and sore my bloody nipples were I could not deny her my milk. There truly is no way to express the closeness and bond a woman feels while nursing her babies. Don't get me wrong it wasn't all so sweet and lovely but tiring, hard and painful. The plugged up ducts, the piercing of the nipples to dislodge them...yes it hurt like hell yet I remember just numbing myself to go on, besides being incredibly exhausted. I remember falling asleep myself while feeding her in my lap (good old boppy saved my life) and feeling so empty and starved in the morning after feeding her all night. How I loved and wanted so much to give her my milk, even though I couldn't see her for three days, I had a emergency C-section after 19 hours of being in labor and her lung collapsed and had to be put in NICU.

I was so determined to breastfeed her I remember trying to pump my milk, putting it in tiny cup feeding into her mouth. The frustration and pain of trying to get her to latch correctly wasn't bad enough but I also swelled up coming home 10 pds heavier from the hospital after delivery! I'm one of those people whoa re bad with anesthesia, instead of peeing out all the damn IV fluid I retained it all. It was scary luckily after first week I actually lost 30 pounds, mostly fluid. My mom gave me some squash juice because it was supposed to help the swelling go down besides the traditional seaweed soup diet for mother's who've just given birth. No wonder Korean women lose the weight so fast they only eat soup and rice! Besides I remember having no appetite what so ever, everything tasted like card board. This also happened with my son although I gave birth to him naturally but I swelled up like a balloon with him but not as much.

Sadly my two pregnancies were far apart and so different. One so pained and resented the second wanted yet pained. During both of my pregnancies I lost people I loved, first was my grandmother and second was my father in law. I know they say it always evens out a life lost and life gained but it sucks. I never had any grandfather's growing up and that will be the way for my kids. My son was lucky in that he got to spend time with my dad the most, he was also my dad's favorite grand child. I know I used to feel angry and mad while raising my son in my parent's home. They spoiled him, the tried to over ride me whenever I tried disciplining him, it was hell but now I'm glad I did live with them. There is the bad and ugly but I think there is way more good, good for my son besides my parents. I'm glad he knew my dad...his"papa" cause he will have to share memories with his little sister. Even though she seems to have some memories of him and tells him.."hi papa, I love you papa, bye papa" when we go to the cemetery I know those memories will fade since she was way too young.

I miss my dad....it still hurts, I try not to think about him but when I do it still hurts, I hurt..I miss you Apa, so much.

Politics

Ok I didn't want to talk about politics but the fact is how can I not with it being in my face. On the news, on the web, on people's yards, on their cars, in my mail, everywhere! I'm a registered democrat however that doesn't mean I would vote that way blindly. I do agree with some things and not with others but I'm pro choice and pro marriage for gays/lesbians. It bothers me that republicans are so against gay/lesbians that they have Prop 8 to stop what has already been ok'd by the state. Get over it and spend your money else where, outside of other people's private lives. What a sad life they must live to put so much energy and money into stopping others people's right to marry. Why do you think you have the right to tell someone else if they can or can not marry. They aren't children, criminals or sociopaths but men and women who love each other. They didn't chose their sexual orientation, just like their sex, race, or color. So why is it they cannot choose to marry the man or woman they love because they are the same sex. It is not ok, there was time in American history where men and women of different races were not allowed to marry, that people of color were not allowed to own propriety/land and where women were not able to vote. It is time to move forward not back and we shouldn't take the rights away of gay/lesbian couples to marry.

Facing the truth

Ok I know what I need and sometimes it takes for someone else to tell me what I need to do, kinda like permission. Sounds funny and weird but it's true but we/I need someone outside of the situation to clearly tell me what is so obvious. I need my space, I need my sleep, I need me time.

So what am'I going to do about it besides giving it a lot of lip service, I'm going to change my behavior, I know easier said but done but I have to since I really can't stand myself right now.



My plans are to have baby girl sleep on her own, enroll her in the co-op preschool since money isn't of abundance right now, get a job (this will solve many worries) and lose the twenty pounds.

Ok I got my plan and now gotta work out the details but I want to have them all accomplished before Christmas, before the new year.



Here I come goals....ok I'm scared but I will move forward.

...sleepless in southern california

Well it's 1:22am and I'm awake not by insomnia but by a 4 year old old. She is currently in the office with her father who is playing WOW(world of war craft). She went to sleep quickly after she was read two stories by daddy but woke up 30 min ago. I tried to comfort her and told her to go back to sleep, for I was barely starting to fall alseep myself, however she couldn't do it. Tossing, turning, and whimpering looking for daddy all while laying on my arm.

Yes she still sleeps with us, that may be the reason of my insanity. The reason I have no real identity but only know as "mommy"is this but "mommy" swore to herself to be more patient and understanding but I'am not. So I find myself here typing into a bright blaring screen in the pitch dark. I can hear his voice, her voice...I can not comfort her cause she wants daddy as of right now I can't, I don't want to comfort her.

A part of me feels bad the hubby isn't getting to enjoy his time, did I mention he is a computer nerd. Before we met his time was spent either at work on a computer or at home on a computer playing Everquest. His addiction to gaming has stopped since we've married and had baby girl. However he gets his one night of game time when baby girl and I sleep. Ok she sleeps and I lay awake watching late night tv, reality shows. I give him this after all it is his vice, addiction, hobby, source of pleasure. So begrudgingly I "allow" his time after all even with only 3-4 hours of sleep he comes with me to my moms to work.

I'm jealous, angry even...why? Because he gets to spend the day away from her, me and has conversation and interactions with others while I spend my days watching Dora and trying to entertain a four year old. I don't get a break, she follows/stalks me to the bathroom, it's like Big Brother watching me all the time although this is Little Sister.

How I yearn for the days of sleep without a sore, stiff arm while laying completely flat on my back. Not really sleeping because I'm always covering her up,-she kicks off her blankets, has moved too close to the edge of the bed, is flipped upside down. In ways I haven't sleep comfortably since the day she was born, my mom told me mother's never sleep and she wasn't kidding.

I'm tired and angry and I don't want to be. Have I been too selfless, foolish, a damn martyr? Suffering because I have created my own prison of giving every ounce of my self, only to be left with an empty, angry shell? Who but I , am to blame...I have sacrificed myself in the name of motherhood only to be angry and bitter. No one has asked me to do these things but I do them and then feel angry, tired, taken advantage of where I have no one to blame but myself.

I can't even point the finger to my mother because this is my duty as mother, to suffer but I'am an adult and I have a choice. But do I.....I wish I could say I know what is right and wrong, that I live my life this way but I do not. As I grow older what used to be so clear and obvious, good or evil, black or white has turned grey. Several different shades of grey and so complicated.

I hate being this way, I hate feeling so unsatisfied and unfulfilled with motherhood, I hate that I do not know who I'am. I wish I could run away sometimes, I can understand how a woman can leave her family, just disappear one day and never come back. I do fantasize about leaving everything behind, traveling the world. Living my dream, not being afraid of being me. To stop suffering in silence but to let myself be me. But this is the family that I created, this is mine, my love, my tears, my time, my anger, and yes my sacrifices of being a mother.

Actions=Reactions

Action results in a reaction, so it shouldn't surprise me that since I'm not feeling like a caged up bear that I'm handling the baby girl's melt downs as I should and not like a crazed lunatic. I notice she has more outbursts, melt downs and tears when I'm feeling impatient and short. Or the truth is I can handle her better so she doesn't have a full blown tantrum. It lies on how I react to her, when I'm feeling the crazies I don't feel loving, patient or tolerant. Hell I can't even tolerate this skin I'm living in alone a whiny, monkey on my back pre-schooler.

Since the crazies has gone I've been patient and even nurturing...point in example last night we were in Target getting my niece a birthday present and baby girl had a melt down. She wanted a toy she saw and we told her no we weren't at the store for her but for her cousin. She actually cried and yelled out loud! Now this child has never had a tantrum in a store let alone demanding us buy her something but for the last two months since we have been staying at my mom's she has been spoiled.

My mom and aunt have been indulging in her every whim...they go out shopping together ( we call them the 3 amigos/ajumas) and they have bought her whatever she wants. This is a new thing for her so of course up till now the child who was content just going to store and looking at things demanded we get her a toy. The hubby was surprised and upset by her out burst and told her he was taking in the car. She cried louder saying"no I don't want to go outside, sorry daddy please!" Instead of getting louder and going off in korean I grabbed her arm, lowered myself to her and looked into her eyes and calmly told her "We already told you we are here for Katie's birthday present and not for you. It's not ok for you to yell or cry like this, so stop or else daddy will take you outside." And wouldn't you know she stopped...besides saying"I'm sorry mommy I won't do it again."

She continued to look at things and ask for them but for Christmas and had no more melt downs. I realise that since I didn't have a full blown cow over it she got over it faster...one thing about her she forgets easily , says I'm sorry and doesn't hold a grudge. How I love this little girl..no crazy stubbornness only when she wants me but not in wanting things her way. It's easy to love such a easy going child.

My point is that it really is important how I react to her actions and how things end really is up to me. I have a control over my reaction, I'm the adult (ok sometimes I forget) and it's up to me to defuse the situation before it gets worse. It starts with me to take care of myself before I get the crazies, to have me time , to nurture and take care of myself so I can take care and nurture the ones around me.

Blogging Friends

They say one of the most important things for woman to have are friends, a support system that understands us, that heal us, that laugh, cry and complains with us. But sometimes we lose our life supports, be it through a move, a marriage, a birth of a child, a change in a career or just paths that diverge with time. I believe all the contacts and friendships we make are for a reason, no matter how short or meaningless we may seem to think they are, or not think about them at all.

We met people all the time, mostly from work at this age and we form bonds through similarities or simple respect of each other. But for a woman with children she loses all grasp of those friendship when she becomes a stay at home mom. She not only loses a wage, a career path, but her identity. Even though she swore to herself she would never lose who she was it bound to happen with warmth of this loving little being cuddled inside her arm. Then she takes another vow to protect and fiercely protect this precious gift bestowed in her arms.

All the memories of her life before are forgotten, as the haze of bi-hourly feedings, sore nipples, and constant care of this helpless new creature needing her. Unlike any other relationship she was in before, the love was instant, over whelming and so sweet. This tiny little creature who gave you stretch marks, heartburn, hemorrhoids, and gigantic plugged up ducts came to control you like a puppet. You are only there for this new precious being, any reminisces of your life before this new being is long forgotten.

So your on your way to motherhood, the quiet suffering as you lose all sense of your self, as the body you once knew has long been gone replaced with this big flabby, bumpy, swollen thing that gives life to this amazing being. So you lose friends, and if your lucky you aren't hit with post- pardum depression, and yet even as exhausted. It's all profoundly new and there are times of frustration and tears but still you keep it together enough to get that precious new being to be fed, bathed, clothed and diapered.

You feel so alone and even when you connect with friends with kids or new moms it still feels so alone. You feel like you are the only woman in the world to feel the lack of sleep, the crazy moments of weeping as the hormones change. You feel your world become hazier and hazier and you don't remember the days when you felt energized and awake. It seems like you never knew another life without sore, swollen boobs, diaper changes and spit up. But the sweet, angelic smile of your new being eases the pain, numbs the soul, as you slowly slip away.

Fast forward a few years and now your a full fledged mom, bigger literally and figuratively speaking. The former life before baby seems so far ago and you can't believe it actually was your own. Dance and stay out all night, drink and eat anything without worrying about getting it into the breast milk or to sleep in. So you try not to think about those days so wistfully, and convince yourself you are better, bigger, happier as your role as mom.

But deep inside you slowly die, motherhood kicks in and you know you want to do better than your own parents but unlike them you are bombarded with so much information. Too much structure,not enough, too much attention, not enough, no matter what you do you are guaranteed to screw up your kids. Then all the demons from your past come out, you are doing the things you swore you would never do with your kids, you are becoming your parent or worse you do not know how to parent, but your children have all run of your house because you are too afraid to discipline because you want to be their friend.

You become a angry because you are lost, you have given yourself completely to the point that there is nothing left to give. There is only a shell of your former self but you guilt yourself to do better, after all to be a mother is to be a martyr. Your laughter and smiles are lost replaced by frowns and screams. The wall of guilt grows higher and higher and we are forced to punish ourselves even more. After all we are our worst critics and we know we are crazy, we are the worst moms out there and that's all we are.

We have no self confidence, we cant wait until the kids go to school yet we are scared because can we go back to our former selves? Can we even get a job let alone a career? You know you can't stay at home once the kids are at school, a tiny part of you deep inside wants that desire and spark to be more. But you are so scared, you know logically you can go back but that still doesn't change the self doubt. Being a mother has strengthened you in ways you never thought possible, looking at poop and changing it without gagging, picking boogers with your bare hands, wiping up vomit without wanting to purge yourself but yet you are afraid.

Your life consists of reading the news online, then blogs and then one day you find yourself reading about other moms who actually had similar moments like you, even questioning their own sanity. They aren't stating motherhood isn't a bunch of bubbles, butterflies and rainbows but it sucks sometimes...ok a lot of the times. So the first time in a long time you feel a connection, you even have to look around because you are laughing out loud, feeling giddy and even good. Your newly acquired addiction has started and you log on daily, even in the middle of the night when you can't sleep.

You connect with these people you don't know, yet you feel their pain, disappointment and frustrations because they are like your own. You are finally able to relate you are not the only one in the world, that there are many like you out there and they are expressing themselves, baring their souls. So this motivates you to do the same, you start your own blog. You pick a anonymous name, something that can portray what you are feeling and you start writing. You keep reading others blogs, find inspiration to deal with your own demons. And then you do it, you reach out via a email or a comment because something has moved you enough. You are scared yet you feel the overwhelming pull to connect with this person, this person whom you seem to care so deeply about. A faceless person you haven't met but want to know because they are you. They convey the same feelings and thoughts you yourself have felt so many times before and you don't want them to feel that way. So in ways as you reach out to them you are reaching out to yourself.

Blogging friends are special and dear because we aren't forced to befriend them, we aren't obligated to respond if we don't want too, we choose to accept them when we are ready. This is to my new blogging friend Kia, thank you for reaching out and giving me this opportunity for our friendship.

The Things That Move Us

I know everyone has things that moves them to tears, anger, joy, envy, exhilaration and pride. Sometimes it occurs with age but usually with experience. It shapes us to feel things differently than we did before. Be it shame as a child being scolded for something we did, the kiss of our first love, the anger of being called a name in the school yard or the simple joy of seeing a pretty flower. Whatever it may be this is what connects us to others, the experiences and feelings we associate with these life passing. Not always good, some traumatic but these are the things that allow us to empathize with others. Only sociopaths and deviants are unable to feel for others, unable to see beyond their own desires and needs.

But some times in life we all fail to see others needs before our own and we fulfill our own desires. In some cases these people are seen as smart, successful, men. But others are selfish, cold, bitches, women. This is the standard in our society, in many societies. Even when a woman succeeds to the top she is seen differently, called names, treated differently than a man, then she in turns becomes extra hard, cold and even ruthless. There is a double standard in this world, as much as we may study it, show proof of it, it will never really cease to stop. As much as we educate ourselves about such treatment, we all play a role in it. Only a very few actually live their lives by what they preach.

It is the easy way, after all if you are a woman speaking out against such treatment you will be isolated, torn down and tossed aside. It's a daunting task, like David and Goliath and at times the little guy does win but for every win there are thousands of more injustices that occur. But this doesn't stop the hopeful, the young, the ones who haven't turned bitter and disgusted. Rarely a few older souls stay bright, hopeful and untainted by the foul tastes life bring on.

They are the ones that are moved by the wonder and beauty of the morning sun, the joy and delight in a child's laugh, the devotion and faith in love. They give us hope to remember before the weight on our shoulders brought us down, the pain that defeated us, the shame we felt, the doubt we felt, the loss of hope. Sometimes its hard to see the sun through the thick haze of doubt, sometimes we all need a reminder of the things that moved us.

I'am human

to be human is to make mistakes,
to be human is to have regrets,
to be human is to learn from those mistakes,
to be human is not repeat those mistakes,
to be human is to make them again,
to be human is to move forward,
to be human is to move two steps back,
to be human is to be imperfect,
to be human is wanting perfection,
to be human is striving,
to be human is deciding,
to be human is enlightening,
to be human is what I want to be,
to be in pain,
to be imperfect,
to be moving forward,
to be regretting,
to be learning,
to be enlightened,
to accept I'am human.

and then the beast reared it's ugly head.....

I know I'm PMSing but the craziness has got to stop...I don't know where the anger comes from but its insatiable monster that needs to be fed. It's all but a pin drop away before it implodes within myself. It happens monthly although lasts more than a week and then I restart all over again. Working at feeling normal again...hello is it just me?

Yet another week has past.

It's already Friday although since I stopped working its not quite the same as before. Weekends were for shopping, laundry, cleaning...no wait it is the same but now I go to my mom's house and work. Today is my cleaning/laundry day, but I say that very loosely since I haven't cleaned anything but I did three loads of laundry. Half way true so yeah I'm on schedule...pms is on schedule and kicking my ass like usual. Gotta love the clock work as the "craziness" rears its ugly head.
I really believe there should be a pms pass where a woman can leave her home (children, spouse/sig. other, mess) for a week to somewhere preferably tropical, with warm sands, water, tanned topless waiters (21-25 years of age) serving drinks and cravings all while receiving massages. Which of course is mandatory otherwise your pass would be void. :) Or if you prefer a cooler climate somewhere in the snow covered alps, lounging in a thick terry clothed robe drinking hot chocolate, coffee (spiked with alcohol) or whatever your hearts desire. Of course being served hand and foot by some hot, young service boy. Just like the tropics only in a warm and cozy resort just for pms'd mom's of course. Lots of food any kind you can possible imagine and best part yet no phones, blackberries...etc.

Ok sign me up, I'm there. Hell make it only a weekend, two nights two whole days, without any guilt from my kids, husband, family and mostly myself! Cause you know we can guilt ourselves better (besides our Korean moms) than anyone else can. Well that was nice fantasy...hey it's even tamed the pms...maybe its like meditation, transport yourself to your good place, inhale, exhale...breathe.